


Stuck in a Locker

by InfernalPume



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Stuck in a locker, Talking, old grudges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 09:25:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14041170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfernalPume/pseuds/InfernalPume
Summary: Arrog finds himself trapped in the worst place he can imagine, as Milo finds himself trapped alongside the worst person he can imagine.They've got nothing better to do, might as well talk it out.





	Stuck in a Locker

"Watch the wings!" Arrog yelped, kicking his legs madly as he squirmed in mid-air.

 

The large demon in a letterman jacket looked down at him, his brutish eyes confused, before he snarled and growled something in demonic Arrog couldnt quite make out.

 

"Your diction is terrible" Arrog grumbled, then realised he had said it in bellspeak. He was about to open it again to say so in demonic when he was thrust rather ceremonially into something dark and made of Iron.

 

Arrog hissed as it burned, twisting in the small metal box so none of his skin pressed against the walls of the locker. There was nothing to be done about his wings, his eyes watered as they seared with pain, Arrog wished for the hundreth time that he could fold them between his shoulders like Jace could. In the dark he kicked against the door of the locker, careful not to let the skin of his ankle brush the door.

 

Milo sighed in frustration as he dragged his feet throughout the halls.

 

"Can't believe I drew the short straw to get him.." he grumbled.

 

He almost gave up from his search before he felt a fist yank at his shirt. Milo yelped before he was being dragged towards the corridor of lockers.

 

"Hey man! I was just minding my own business!" He yelled, trying to pull from the demon's grip.

 "this is not the way to treat someone who doesn't even get an education here!" Milo tried again before he heard a locker being yanked open and he was roughly thrown inside, and forced being squished against something.

 

 "Hey!" he shouted, but he was only given a sinister laugh, causing Milo to huff in annoyance.

 

"Not again." he groaned.

 

Arrog jerked as he heard someone get shoved into the locker next to his, and groaned with embarrassment. 

 

Great. Just what he needed, a neighbour.

 

he couldn’t recognise his fellow captive from his voice, and wasn’t about to press his ear to the cursed metal. He took a deep breath, and tried to lower his voice as much as possible. He didn’t want the other person to know who he was, in case they ran into each other again.

 

"Whose there...?"

 

Milo tensed at the voice next to him. Great.

 

"Guess I'm stuck with my sister's boyfriend for who knows how long, huh?" He scoffed, pressing his forehead against the metal locker and sighing. "Y’know, making your voice any lower isn't gonna change how you sound. You always sound on edge, high or low I'm gonna know it’s you." He stated, lifting his head away from the cool metal surface.

 

"I should know, I went to camp for the little things like that."

 

Arrog groaned.

 

"Oh. It’s you." he grumbled, resuming its normal pitch, "Should have known, only bad things ever happen to me!"

 

Arrog tucked his arms deeper into his oversized sweater, trying to shift his wings back into the slits so as not to touch the stinging metal.

 

"You couldn't tell a pixtopian player from a wind chime!"

 

"Always the comebacks. Bad things don't happen to only you, y'know." Milo argued, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to move in his own corner of the compressing locker.

 

"And if you want to avoid touching the metal, you have to fold your wings over each other and press them into your back. I've seen how Jace does it." he mumbled, resting his head against the locker again.

 

Arrog stopped struggling for a moment, a long silence hanging in the air. "

 

Since when do you know about the fae's allergy to iron? You can’t even tell if I'm a fairy."

 

For all his offended tone, he tried very quietly to do as Milo had said.

 

Wasn’t as if the brat could see him, after all.

 

With them safely tucked, he crossed his arms and put up his hood, even with the singing subsided, he the metal was hard and uncomfortable even with his small size.

 

Milo huffed and shrugged off his hoodie and threw it at the pixie.

 

"Put that on, it'll prevent you from getting stung. That way I don't have to hear you shuffling around." He leant his back against one side of the locker and looked down to what he assumed was Arrog.

 

"Of course I know the difference between a fairy and a pixie, you idiot. I just call you fairy because you speak like tinker bell. Fairies are jerks, like you. Why do you think I try to avoid your presence?" He said with little heat in his voice, tired of trying to fight him instead of trying to fight his way out.

 

"I'm the jerk? I'm the jerk?" Arrog growled, flinching away from the hoodie. It was too warm for his liking, and his dislike for Milo gave it a phantom stench.

 

"You're the one who just admitted you think bellspeak and chimespeak are the same! they're totally different! Fairies are like animals, they follow the seelie and unseelie courts, they're not civilized!" he crossed his arms, "I have no idea why you hate me, but I refuse to be apart of it! I care about other people's feelings, unlike you."

 

Milo shut up then. He turned his back and slouched, trying to keep his breathing even. His eyes stung with tears as he kept repeating _I'm not my father I'm not my father I'm not my father_ in his head.

 

"How can you care for someone's feelings if they don't appreciate it from you.." He mumbled, recalling to the time where his own birth father didn't appreciate how much he cared. One of the main causes on why he showed less sympathy towards others.

 

Arrog flinched, the words punching him in the gut. _Don’t appreciate them from me? What is he talking about?_ Arrog's voice chimed, before he grunted and tried again,

 

"P-plenty of people appreciate me!" he said, "I'm doing very important work for my kingdom!"

 

Milo let out a watery laugh. Of course he wouldn't understand.

 

"Yeah, they appreciate you.." He muttered. "You're the one who's perfect. You're not frowned upon in two dimensions. You have a name for who you are. Your own parent doesn't look at you like a mistake… when you try to show appreciation you're gonna get appreciation back. Because you're a perfect little prince who has a perfect life where everyone loves you, and when there's someone who doesn't, you're the one who gets to act like it's mutiny." His voice began to go shaky, unable to contain his tears any longer.

 

Arrog's hurt turned into a hot spike. It was too much, he couldn’t speak, not even in bells. Something incredibly dark bubbled up from a secret and angry place inside him, and he found himself breaking the one unspoken law no pixie ever dared.

 

"My parents are dead, asshole."

 

"Well, my parents might as well be dead. So I guess we could have something in common." Milo hissed. His arms wrapped around himself as he slid into the bottom of the metal cubical, curling into himself as he tried to contain his crying.

 

Arrog didn't answer, he felt a little sick from swearing, not that Milo probably minded.

 

In Milo's horrible terrible unfair life, he probably never had to worry about swearing. That sort of thing just wasn’t a problem in the underworld. When he felt he had calmed down enough, he turned to glare at Milo, his glow growing, he wanted the brat to see his face.

 

"I don’t know what insecurities you've tacked onto me, but I avoid calling you out on your bullhookie for Jace's sake. But you know what? I'm done. A perfect little prince? You don't know a thing about me. We have _nothing_ in common."

 

Milo turned his head. "Guess not then." He whispered, closing his eyes as the tears finally rolled down his cheeks.

 

He just wanted to go home. Milo didn't even want to keep arguing, thinking maybe if Arrog 'won' he'd leave him alone. All he could do was wait and home Jace or Nico would find them so he can get out of the situation and just sleep. Whenever there was a problem, he'd sleep on it and wait to see what would happen after. It was a terrible way of dealing with his problems, but they always worked.

 

Arrog's ears drooped the minute he caught sight of the tears, his glow going out immediately.

 

 _Demons are so sensitive_ he told himself, _They just cry easily here, I didnt do anything wrong. If he could spend a day in the pixtopian court he wouldnt cry over something so stupid. If the Empress could see him..._ he blinked, thinking of the empress, of why he came here at all. To escape her. And now here he was, bringing her with him. He was always so careful not to let her crazy into his actions, but just like that he had snapped.

 

"Whatever," he mumbled, turning his back to Milo.

 

 _Go ahead and cry, cry so everyone will feel sorry for you and make it all better,_ that dark part of his mind said, the anger boiling in his chest like an animal stalking in its cage.

 

_I bet it’s so hard being a prince who is allowed to go to school and have friends and won’t be publicly executed for improperly complimenting the Empress' shoes!_

 

Arrog grit his teeth, trying to get that voice to shut up.

 

_It must be awful being able to go to a party and not be terrified that you'll be hexed to dance until your legs are bleeding stumps._

 

He began to shake with the effort of holding back the violent words.

 

_You dont know what it’s like to cry. you dont know what its like to be scared, I hope you-_

 

Arrog's eyes shot open and he winced, slapping his hands over his ears as if they could protect him from the vile curses rattling inside of his brain.

 

Milo remained quiet for the rest of the time in the locker. As Arrog spazzed out he grabbed his phone and tried to at least make a call, sadly there was no service when you're inside a locker.

 

Sometimes he wondered why he was oversensitive, he never saw his siblings become so worn down, they'd always pick themselves back up. In a sense, Milo would be known as a terrible actor when it came to feelings, he was able to hide them for only a short amount of time before it all came crumbling down onto him. It always felt suffocating, if he were to hide again it would be the last before he would breathe again.

 

"Life sucks…" he tried to laugh, only making it seem like a tease. "But the only way you'd try to survive is by hiding your problems because maybe someone has it harder than you..."

 

Arrog's ears twitched, getting hotter. The dark little voice was raging in his head now, so high and furious he couldnt make it out anymore.

 

  _No._ was all he could think, the only part of him that felt like himself, _No, no, no._

 

Arrog took his hands off his ears.

 

"I..." It was so hard, but he knew it would go away the moment he pushed it down, he just needed to swallow it... "I'm sorry I upset you."

 

He wasn’t friendly, he had returned to the usual stiff and cordial tone he used to address Milo. At least it wasn’t the chilling fury of before.

 

"Pushing your anger back isn't the same as pushing your sorrow. Scream. It makes me feel better when I'm angry." Milo suggested in a monotone voice, covering his ears just in case for the worst.

 

"Just let it out. You may even need to hit something, and that's fine."

 

Milo knew what it was like to keep anger pent up inside for so long, keeping it in was worse emotionally and mentally. For him at least. He'd be an idiot to keep it in he thought, but he still waited to hear the screams of rage.

 

Arrog swallowed again, even a demon could sense the aura had gone soft and dangerous.

 

"I'm not angry," he said, calmly, eerily calm, "I don’t get angry."

 

Arrog managed a smile in the dark, despite the anger. He needed to do something good, to prove he was stronger than that wild animal in his chest.

 

 "I..." he said, they were cramped together, what could he do, "I'm sorry," he said again, his voice going back to its usual nervous tone, "I uh...this is awkward...hooo"

 

He looked up at Milo, even with the hatred burning in his chest, tried to look helpful, "Are you okay, do you need anything?"

 

Milo scowled at him, he knew he was lying.

 

All Milo wanted for him was to let go, anger wasn't going to do anything but make Arrog get worse.

 

"You're lying." Milo sighed, tossing his head back and trying to think.

 

 _When I was angry mom would hug me,_ he thought. Although he hated the idea of showing any intimacy towards him, he winced and tugged himself and encircled his arms stiffly around pixie.

 

"Just stop pushing your anger." His voice was tight, attempting to hide how dreadful it felt.

 

Arrog stiffened, the animal screamed.

 

White hot anger boiled in Arrog's brain making his thoughts go fuzzy as his hairs stood on end. The effect was so powerful his wings curled against his back, so still they clenched painfully. He choked out something, a bell word, once twice, he coughed. It became a laugh.

 

"L-let go of me..." he coughed, trying to keep his words friendly, "P-please let go of me."

 

Milo knew if he did Arrog would continue pushing it.

 

"No." he said, although he was scared and painfully wanted to retract himself, he hugged him tighter, trying to contain him, "This is what a hug is. You should take advantage and let yourself feel vulnerable."

 

Milo wasn’t sure if the pixie even knew what a hug even was, but he continued his hold and refused to let go.

 

Arrog's hands shook, his whole body shook.

 

"I...don’t...like it..." he stammered, he sounded like he was on the brink of tears.

 

"Don't care." Milo said, tightening his grip again. "I don't care if you don't like it." He himself felt like crying.

 

"You probably went your entire life without a hug." he assumed.

 

Arrog scrunched his eyes shut, forcing the animal down.

 

"The Princess hugs me all the time." he says, his voice dipping back into its cool tone, "And my mother used to hug me as well."

 

Feebly, Arrog’s shaking hands pushed Milo away. "Are you not going to leave me alone until I tell you?"

 

Milo huffed and clung to him.

 

"No." as much as he didn't want to, he still hugged him. He felt he was getting somewhere and he wasn't going to let go until Arrog did. "I'm not leaving you alone until I feel like it. And you can't shove me away."

 

That was it. It was out.

 

Arrog felt the fire burning through his veins and leaving a cold thudding of adrenaline in its wake.

 

"Do you think this is a joke?" he asked, his voice soft and dangerous, "You think I have any use for this stupid display?"

 

The Pixie didn’t struggle, but went eerily stiff in the boy's arms, "All this time I thought I did something wrong- that I had somehow _offended_ you. I did everything in my power to try and make it up to you, but you wouldn’t stop. And now I know why. You were never angry at me, you don’t care about me at all. You just hate what I am. What you wish you were, what you think I represent. There was nothing I could have ever done to win you over- you were too insecure to let anyone of your social status anywhere near you. Every time I do something for my Empire, you think it’s an attack on you for doing nothing for your own. All you do is sit and whine and make other people solve your problems for you."

 

 Arrog wrestled in Milo's grip to glare up at him.

 

"And why? Why do you maintain such a pathetic display? Because you're a crossbreed. Newsflash! Everyone here is a crossbreed, all of your siblings are crossbreeds, your older sister almost lost the throne because she's a crossbreed."

 

He looked away again, venom in his tone, "Your father didn't want you, right? You were abandoned or something. Well guess what- all of your siblings were too and they don’t mope around like it’s the end of the world. They do something with their lives, they try to stand up on their own."

 

Arrog's voice was growing angrier.

 

"You dont know how lucky you are to live here, to be allowed to live here. Do you know what they do to crossbreeds in Pixtopia, do you know _anything_ about Pixtopia?"

 

Milo let him ramble, no matter how much he wanted to argue. Arguing with him on it was definitely not going to do anything.

 

Instead Milo sighed and let his arms wrap around him more comforting, he didn't show any sort of hurt with his words.

 

He knew they were true.

 

"It’s okay to cry, idiot. No one will see it but me. It's fine to cry." he muttered, trying to help him ease the pain. "It hurts, I know that. I know how it feels to hurt."

 

"No, you don’t." Arrog said, his voice dark, before he swallowed it back. "I...I don’t mean that..."

 

Arrog pushed Milo away, this time not allowing to be held again. He was surprisingly strong for his size.

 

"I know your mother changed things down here, that your people act differently to mine, and it’s not fair to assume that you don't have your own problems."

 

Arrog's voice had gone soft and tired. It wasn’t his usual nervous politeness, but something aged beyond his years.

 

"But my problems have nothing to do with you, and there’s nothing any of you can do about them. There's only two options for Pixtopian nobility, we either join in the Empress' cruelty, or keep our heads down until we get away and hope that someday we'll be able to forget."

 

Arrog pressed his back against the metal, not even feeling the sting, "I'm sorry I yelled at you, and I dont care if you forgive me or not. You were out of line, but I'm never going to be like her." his voice went low at these words, "Your people encourage strong emotions, but I'll never be able to do that. I'm just an ambassador, and I'm not going to change so you can feel good about yourself."

 

"Who said you changing would make me feel good about myself? You are in pain. Being in pain must suck but I'm not going to be a jerk and let you suffer through it. The least I could do is help you, I tried helping you. But you pushed me away. So I guess you don't need help." Milo said, narrowing his eyes and turning away.

 

"Having emotions doesn't show weakness. Having no emotion only shows how much you don't care. How do you show you care for my sister? How do I know that you really are emotional through things you and her go through? My sister's been through hell, and not the one we've been in. I want to know she's cared for when we're not there. But now I'm not so sure." He muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the other side of the cubical.

 

 "I tried to help you, at least appreciate that instead of being more of an asshole."

 

Arrog groaned. "Okay Prince Milo, okay."

 

That was all he said, opting to state at the lights through the slits in the locker.

 

There was silence for a time, before Arrog spoke up again.

 

"I think this is the longest we've been stuck in the same room. Usually one or both storms out after the usual avenues have been exhausted."

 

"Believe me, if I could I would have been out of here the first five seconds." Milo huffed, taking out his phone again to turn on the flashlight, setting it downwards to create a form of light throughout the small space.

 

"But, sadly, it's a locker. I've been shoved in so many. No one will come until they realize it's been hours."

 

"Or if the janitor's soap opera is on tonight, he'll come along to clean so he can leave early." Arrog said, offering nothing else. He seemed oddly deflated, not even bothering to take the bait.

 

"Janitors aren't allowed to go through lockers unless it's suspecting. I doubt he'd hear us anyways since he's always got headphones on, listening to audiobooks." Milo teased, picking at a loose thread at the cuff of his jeans.

 

"I've once stayed in a locker so long once, the reason you haven't seen me the first family dinner was because of that. It wasn't until after the dinner they noticed there was supposed to be another kid. They just got to hyped up about you, guess they didn't think they even forgot another child." He laughed weakly, placing his cheek in his hand.

 

Arrog's ear twitched.

 

"Oh." he said, and frowned.

 

Was Milo there that first night? He was so young, it had to be over seven years ago. Was Milo ever around back then? He just didn't show up to dinner, and no one noticed. Arrog remembered his own family dinners, just him and his two parents. Even in Pixtopia he always had an announcer address the table before he sat down, but the Lucitor house had always been more chaotic and casual. Arrog would have done anything to sneak off for a few precious hours alone from the court's cruelty.

 

"But y’know. I guess my problems aren't as bad as yours. So I have nowhere to talk, huh?" Milo gave a tight smile, remembering Arrog's rant about it not too long ago.

 

"How do you end up so angry?" He asked, confusion plastered on his face. "You must be angry all the time."

 

Any warmth from Arrog's aura evaporated quickly.

 

 "I..." he said, then sighed, "I said I was sorry about that..."

 

"That doesn't answer my question. Does Jace know why you're angry? Or do you hide your anger from her?" He continued asking, slightly turning his body towards him. "I'm probably the last person you'd tell though."

 

Arrog felt something cold tugging at his insides.

 

"Jace...doesn't make me angry..." Arrog said, "And neither do you, for that matter." he swallowed a lump in his throat, "Only she does, and anyone who acts like her…”

 

Arrog trailed off, then added almost painfully: "When _I_ act like her..."

 

Milo sighed.

 

"I didn't say Jace makes you angry. You are obviously going through something, and it's inside you. What you learned in your kingdom doesn't mean you have to be that way all the time. You are your own person. You're allowed to be angry, don't push it aside."

 

Milo put his hand up in front of him to prevent him from trying to argue. "It may sound dumb to you, but it helps a lot. The empress is a jerk and needs to learn that everything can't be perfect. Look at my family, we're not perfect. Our family never has been. But it's what makes us a great family. You have Jace and my parents and my siblings who are your family. They care about you. I even care, you just get on my nerves..."

 

Arrog was quiet for a time, still curled tightly into a ball.

 

"I'm not going through anything." he said, "I don't know what you think I said, but I'm just an ambassador."

 

"You really think I don't see it? You're telling yourself that I'm just going crazy. You are obviously going through something." Milo pushed again. "I want to help people, even you. But you're just pushing me away."

 

Arrog pulled his hood over his ears, and spoke very quietly, "Please, keep your voice down..."

 

"I'm not talking loud, Arrog. Why are being like this? Help me understand." He groaned in frustration.

 

"I want to help you."

 

"I can't tell you about it- no one knows about it. I think you're the first person I've ever told that my..." he couldn't force it out.

 

"What was that you said about audiobooks? I didn't know the janitor liked audiobooks?"

 

"You're changing the subject." Milo mumbled, shuffling in the space to sit next to Arrog. Milo sighed and hung his head.

 

"He likes audiobooks, I overheard one of them through the open side of the headphone." His voice sounded not too much above a whisper. "They're romance novels."

 

"Sounds like him," Arrog said, not bothering to mask his relief. He didn't say much after that, but didn't flinch away when Milo moved next to him.

 

"...Listen, I know you're trying to help. But it’s not what you think it is, and being trapped in a dark box that can literally burn my skin off isn’t the ideal place to unpack it."

 

 Arrog unhooked his arms from his knees, unsure if he should say the next part. "And I don't think you realize the effect you have on people."

 

"I honestly don't. I just try to help." Milo sighed, "Sometimes I think I fail at trying to help, and I make it worse."

 

He hesitantly pressed his head on Arrog's shoulder.

 

"Don't say anything," He warned, "I just need self-comfort."

 

"...at least you try." Arrog said, pretending he wasn’t there, "When anything bad happens its like I'm frozen. I can't do or say anything, it takes me right back to when I was a kid and I just want to hide."

 

"You killed a man, unintentionally. Don't forget that. You didn't freeze. You helped, my family. You didn't hide then, because you cared so much." Milo suggested. "I'm more useless, because I don't have anything special about myself. Everyone has these cool powers or has some strength. Like how my mom knows karate. But I'm just, me."

 

Milo could only mumble that last part, his eyes filling with tears again. "

 

I'm a bit too emotional." He chuckled, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

 

Arrog flinched at the mention of Luke, but didn’t say anything about it.

 

"Everyone loves you," he said, "I've seen how the other kids in the drama club all scramble for your attention. From where I sit in the auditorium, I always see a few hangers on during your parts during practice. Just because you can’t...ki- ... _hurt people_ , doesn’t mean you're useless."

 

"You watch me during my practice?" Milo asked completely unaware that he even saw him during his drama club.

 

"How long have you been doing that?" He asked, turning his head up with his eyebrows scrunched together.

 

"I'm in yearbook." Arrog said, "I usually photograph every dress rehearsal, casting call, and opening night." He smirked, "I saw the prop whiskey incident."

 

Milo's eyes widened.

 

"No one was supposed to know about the whiskey incident." He whispered harshly. He shook his head and continued. "

 

Yearbook is usually only during the third quarter, the whiskey incident was in the first quarter fall play. That doesn't usually matter because the last quarter plays are better. Why would you need to photograph then?"

 

"To capture joyful teen memories, of course," Arrog said innocently, then dropped the façade.

 

"Don't worry, I was watching something on my phone at the time. I accidentally ruined a batch of negatives so they sent me to a dead assignment..." he frowned, "That’s when we've already photographed something, but need to take more just in case someone is sick on picture day. It’s boring because we're not allowed to take anything other than wide shots that include the entire club, and only need one or two. It’s a punishment."

 

"You're always so quiet, I don't even notice you in the auditorium." Milo laughed quietly.

 

"If you're the photographer, then your shots are really good. You should be proud of that." He said, wincing at himself for giving Arrog a compliment.

 

Arrog rolled his eyes.

 

"All you have to do is point." he said, "You're the ones with your crazy dance numbers and sparkly outfits. I swear, Lilace almost made me go blind during Chicago. And she wouldn't stop pestering me when she found out I was the one assigned to drama, kept demanding more shots of herself and-" Arrog stopped, looking awkwardly to Milo.

 

"Lilace is self centred. That's no surprise." Milo chuckled, but glanced down and gave Arrog a look of confusion.

 

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked, lifting his head of his shoulder. "Chicago is supposed to be a bright and shiny act."

 

"No, it’s uh," Arrog blushed, "I dont wanna stir anything up..."

 

"Drama club would have her removed already, but her daddy is the 'big guns' so she gets whatever she wants. Just be glad she didn't want to be a photographer." Milo shrugged and placed his head back to his shoulder. "Honestly you're not stirring anything. Lilace is despised by a lot of people."

 

Arrog chewed his cheek, "Apparently on picture day you and someone named Pa'ari wore matching ren-fair t-shirts? And Lilace was doing that with her boyfriend, and didn’t want you guys to copy her, so she asked to put your faces in the centre fold, so she'd look like they were the only ones to do it..."

 

"I'd figured she did. I don't really mind, I mean she wants what she wants. Can't do anything about it." Milo huffed out a snicker and fiddled with his jeans again. "She and her boyfriend are just two people who think the world should go on their knees for them. I think she copied us though, we had it planned since the beginning."

 

Arrog rolled his eyes, "I didn’t do it, idiot," he said, "I wasn't even in charge of editing, I'm a photographer, besides, it was eighth grade so..."

 

Arrog stopped and trailed off, looking over his left shoulder.

 

"I didn't think you paid attention to me since then. But I know you're a good guy. You just make me infuriated sometimes." Milo shrugged. "But even as a photographer, you still have a say on how things look. You could have totally told them what she wanted and they would do it because it's Lilace. But you didn't."

 

Arrog was silent for a time.

 

"Of course I _didn’t_ ," he said, "Sometimes I think back and wish I did but..."

 

Arrog sighed, his attitude going cold, "I didn't think you'd turn out like you did, back then."

 

"Don't go all cold on me now, you were actually becoming tolerable." Milo said with a frown. "When you get angry you start glowing. So don't get angry, I can tell."

 

Arrog turned to glare at him, but the expression slid off his face.

 

"I'm not angry," he said, "I guess...just disappointed."

 

The silence was awkward, and Milo was about to harass him some more before Arrog asked, "you really don’t remember, do you?"

 

"Sometimes I don't remember a lot of things. But it's probably very serious." Milo mumbled, sighing softly. "I did something, didn't I?"

 

Arrog looked at him, as if searching for some smirk or other tell that he was messing with him. He growled out a sigh and looked away.

 

"You were pretty young, I guess it’s not fair for me to expect you to." Arrog hugged his knees again, voice going soft.

 

"I was eight when I attended my first silver bell ball, I guess you must have been only four or five..." Arrog shifted, as if to get away from Milo,

 

"I had been taken from my home, I only just learned I was a Prince, and first thing I knew I had to dance with all these other nobles who were more than twice my size. Especially Princess Estella, who looked like she was about to kill me when the bell rang for my turn to choose."

 

A small smile crossed Arrog’s features, "Nico set off a firework, I think, or maybe Jace sneezed? All I remember was there was this huge ball of fire, and it was your family's fault, so I didn't have to choose. While the Empress was yelling at your mom, you, Jace, and Estella snuck off with the Mewni Princess and blew bubbles in the garden, and let me hang out with you. Your dad also came along at some point with corn shakes, and he didn't try to hit any of you or anything. It was the closest thing to a normal family I saw in months. Your mom managed to get out of it by offering an exchange program between our people, and my aunt was trying to get rid of me anyway. I was sent to live with you guys, and I was so excited."

 

Arrog uncurled, almost seeming _happy_.

 

 "For those first few years you guys were the only ones in the underworld who were nice to me, even after I got my own place for middle school. I didn’t mind that we drifted apart, because I was just happy to be included at all, so when Jace invited me to be a part of the group chat I was super pumped..."

 

Arrog sighed, "But first thing that happened was Princess Estella ragequit, and then you left too, and next thing I knew I was _banned_ , and all of you just hated me from that day on besides Jace."

 

Arrog’s hand on his sweater curled into a fist, "You never even told me what I did wrong."

 

"Arrog,” Milo groaned, “I never hated you. You just… You told me to read a manga on _Othello_."

 

Milo sighed again. "I got a little irritated. Stel, I don't know her reasons. I liked you, you were pretty funny. But we were kids."

 

Milo placed his hand on Arrog’s knee, trying to calm him down a bit.

 

"Then after that it just seemed like you were trying to get me irritated on purpose, idiot. I fought back and now here we are. You didn't do anything wrong, I'm just not fond of a lot of things you do."

 

Milo pressed his cheek against his shoulder, causing his next words to be muffled. "You were pretty cool back then."

 

"Princess Estella forgave me." Arrog snapped, "They all came around again, all except for you, no matter how many times I tried to apologise, no matter what I tried to do to make it better."

 

 Bitterly, Arrog jerked his knee out of Milo's grasp, "You'd either leave the room or call me _swine_."

 

For the first time, Milo might be able to detect the hurt behind the usual malice.  

 

“You're the smallest, and you're the weakest,” Arrog said, “I guess it just doesn’t occur to you that you have the ability to hurt other people. I guess you just think that no one cares. But I did. I cared a _lot_."

 

Those words hung in the air for a time, Milo unsure of what to say.

 

"I know I'm a jerk. It's just…” Milo took a deep breath.

 

“Everyone likes you because you're so _nice_ and _understanding_ and you're never forgotten in _anything_. But ever since the dinner when I was in a locker the entire night, hoping someone would realize _'hey, someone's missing, we should make sure they're okay'_..."

 

Milo trailed off, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks.

 

"They loved you because you're so different and polite and... _uncultured_... and calm, not crazy like us…" in some attempt to save face, Milo tried to tease, "It’s not that I don’t know I have the ability to hurt people emotionally... I _know_ I do. But... how can I care when you are admired by my family so much to the point where… they probably _forget_ I exist?”

 

Milo’s voice broke then.

 

“I don't want to be forgotten, Arrog."

 

His voice began to tremble, holding back a sob in his throat, "My father tried to forget me for years... He looked at me and just told them to get rid of me. If my parents hadn't found me I'd be dead. Being forgotten is just like being dead, a ghost you can physically touch..."

 

The last words were barely audible, Milo pushed them out before finally letting himself cry.

 

Arrog watched him, his ears drooping.

 

"I..." he said, not knowing what to say to that. He knew what he should do, and the thought scared him.

 

Arrog sighed, and pressed his back into Milo's chest, unable to properly hug him from this angle.

 

"Well," he said, slowly, awkwardly, "Pixies live for a long time, and I don’t think I'll ever forget you..."

 

Arrog blushed and looked to the side, "I mean, it’s hard to forget that one time I got locked in a closet with a guy and we talked about feelings for two hours."

 

Milo let out a shaky laugh.

 

"It’s a locker, you idiot..." He whispered, gripping onto the back of Arrog's sweater.

 

"You'll always be some kind of idiot. But two hours in a small space can make a lot if things happen." Milo joked, using his sleeve to wipe his face from tears.

 

"There's a joke that Estella would make there..." Arrog said, "But I'm pretty sure it'd make the both of us sick."

 

He leaned back, his aura warming again. It was an old fist unclenching around his heart, something he was finally letting go.

 

Milo felt the effect of the aura, a gentle sort of relief like finishing an exam you had been dreading for months

 

"You're not too bad. It's better than being with Nico, he'd probably kill us by trying to use fireworks to blow the door off."

 

"I see you're finally letting go." Milo pointed out, giving him a slight smirk.

 

"Maybe your advice isn’t too completely _awful_..." Arrog said, "You're being less of a frigid _meanie pants_."

 

Milo laughed at that.

 

"My advice is amazing, you just don't know how to take it," He teased.

 

"There's the Milo I know, I missed you" he smirked, "Just like I imagine everyone is now, how the _heckie_ are we getting out of here?"

 

"Okay, if we're going to continue talking don't say _'heckie'_ ever again." Milo said with a grimace. "..And everyone knew you were staying late so they told me to get you. But two hours later, we're in a locker."

 

Arrog arched a brow, undisturbed, "You came after me?"

 

Milo shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest, "Didn't want to at first. But I thought if I quickly found you and dragged you back it would be tolerable. Yet this happened. Which I didn't plan."

 

Arrog frowned.

 

"I wasn’t even supposed to come over to yours tonight..." he said, "And I texted Jace just before that demon caught me- she thought I was doing homework tonight."

 

"Wait what? Then why was I told to get you?" Milo's face scrunching in confusion. "If you weren't supposed to show up at all then I could have gone home!"

 

Arrog stared up in equal confusion, "I dunno." he said, "Jace even said that she didnt mind me not wanting to me-"

 

He stopped mid-sentence, as he realized what had happened.

 

"...You're listening, aren’t you?" he called, before the 'bully' appeared before the door again, blocking the light.

 

Milo turned his head and squinted his eyes to see through the slits.

 

"Are you gonna just stand there or open the locker?" He said with annoyance. "Sometimes bullies and jocks are real dumb." He whispered to Arrog.

 

"I do not like it when my intelligence is mocked" Uma said, shifting back into her usual form where she perched delicately on her wheelchair like a broken doll, "It took up an abundance of energy to remain shifted for such a long time."

 

The locker swung open of its own accord, causing Milo and Arrog to tumble out. Arrog wasted no time, his wings flapping open as he leapt into the air. He was half way convinced they were about to fall off! Umaz'har looked at the two of them with her dark glassy eyes, before lifting her shaking hands like marionettes to push the wheels of her chair.

 

"Thank God." Milo muttered as be picked himself up off the floor and dusting his pants from dirt. Milo pointed a finger at Arrog and narrowed his eyes.

 

"No one is to speak of what happened in there." He warned, fixing his hair to compose himself.

 

Arrog floated upside down, "Y-yeah," he said, drooping somewhat. "And you wont...about any of the stuff I said...about what you might have thought I said..." he glanced about nervously, as if worried they were being watched, even here.

 

Milo gave him a smile.

 

 "If you're worried about being heard, there is nothing to worry about. Unless you're in drama club, you won't see anyone around." Milo knelt down to pick his hoodie off the floor and looked back at him.

 

 "I'm going home now. Follow if you want," he shrugged the hoodie back on and made his way towards the exit.

 

Arrog shook his head, but knew Milo couldn’t see him. He glared down at Umaz'har, who said nothing.

 

"You set this up, didnt you?" he asked, glaring at her. She didn’t look up as she wheeled herself, seemingly too engrossed by the effort. Arrog sighed and floated down to take the handles and push her.

 

"You are both good people," she said, her voice not strained at all from the exertion, "It is not right that you are so aggressive to each other."

 

Arrog rolled his eyes.

 

 "You know it hurts being shoved into a locker." he said.

 

Umaz'har didn’t answer to that, merely stared ahead as Arrog wheeled her home.

 

Milo groaned in relief as he entered his own home. He quickly went up to his room while he dialled Naomi.

 

"Naomi you will not believe the day I've had." He sighed in exhaustion, throwing himself onto his bed as he continued to talk about spending two hours in a locker.

 

"Wow, so you and him were in a locker alone? And you didn't kill each other? What did you even do in there?" She laughed.

 

Milo went silent for a bit before speaking up again.

 

"We just sat there in silence before Uma let us out." He said simply, "He's probably the dumbest person I've ever met." He smiled to himself, listening to his friend go on and on about her day.


End file.
